We All Are Feminists Now

“you should realize you’ve had privilege, you know?”

a constant refrain in the constant lives,

the constancy surviving the test of times.

“we all are feminists now, aren’t we? I mean—look, look, just look around you. you—sitting in a class along with boys. who would have thought?”

A sad nostalgia covers their scowl.

Sure, we are. Sure, we are.

We all are feminists now.

I should learn to knead a dough. I mean surely, I can’t expect a male to do it for me?

Can I?

Of course I can, but then, should I? No! No!

I should learn to be as docile as a cow.

But surely enough we all are feminists now.

But then sometimes a rage seethes through me—

Why can’t they see me as a human as I am?

(It gives me no pleasure to inhabit this flesh prison, smartly I am a misanthrope.)

But they’ll rather shush me up, and if words don’t work, just slash me up.

Our bodies are sites of politics I am told,

“assert power over them”—the great idea sold!

“Feminism?”, “MeToo”, “Equal Rights” we cry,

And then straight go serving plates for the ‘kings’ with a happy sigh.

Because we went to the rallies, because these ‘kings’ didn’t disapprove.

They allow us. We are modern now. We allow.

Some tears go into making of the dough;

But at least this much can be said without a doubt,

That we all are certainly feminists now.

Situating ‘We Are All Feminists Now’

This is a piece embodying the experiences of being a female in developing countries like India, where discourses range from those lodged in the ‘modern’ woke culture to the almost subconsciously embedded calls of tradition, dehumanising the female. It is this space in between where those from these cultures inhabit, and this poem gives voice to these distinctively female phenomenological realities, which are different from those located in the relatively well-off geographies.